


With Bells On

by primeideal



Category: Wheel of Time - Robert Jordan
Genre: Book 9: Winter's Heart, F/M, Past Rape/Non-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-29
Updated: 2020-04-29
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:22:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23910772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/primeideal/pseuds/primeideal
Summary: Mat, Aludra, and saying yes.
Relationships: Aludra/Mat Cauthon
Kudos: 6





	With Bells On

**Author's Note:**

> Content note: the past non-con is referencing Tylin and Mat's relationship; everything between Mat and Aludra is consensual.

"I might think of kissing such a smart young man as you," Aludra admitted, "if you did not belong to another. You have such a pretty bottom," she added with a grin.

Mat Cauthon gave a start, but did not turn. Deliberately, he toyed with his cloak, then reached for the walking stick that had leaned against the door. She was not sure whether he carried it to thwap passersby, or to support himself after the injury. Perhaps both. "Kiss me," he finally said, "or don't. Compliment the shape of my bottom, if you must, or leave it be. But don't call a fellow smart if he's fool enough to get mixed up in this cookpot. And _don't_ call me the property of anyone. Bloody hell, you're as bad as--" He broke off abruptly. "Two or three days, then. I will be back."

"Take care," she offered, as much a friendly salutation as a warning. He briefly raised his hat in return, then clenched his stick as he climbed down from the wagon.

He was not an unattractive man, for being young and wearing that same silk scarf everywhere. If he had been less grumpy, she might well have gifted him a kiss; he would be smart enough not to go bragging about it to the queen.

But behind all his sourness was some sort of determination. Perhaps he would be shrewd enough to recognize what she wanted from Sutoma, or one of his counterparts in another city. Hopefully a less self-important one. If not...well, he might be stubborn enough to show up again in three days.

* * *

Mat managed a day and a half before he got restless, or had a free moment away from Tylin, and returned to the circus. "Sneaking in at this hour?" she teased. "Latelle won't let me hear the end of it."

"That one is married to Luca? She has worse problems than who you have in your wagon."

"That's something, coming from Tylin's consort."

"Now look here," Mat snapped. "My leg is weak enough that the exercise of walking from the flaming palace to here does do me good. But I am getting stronger, and the next time I have to walk over here just for you to gossip like a palace servant, I will tell Calwyn bloody Sutoma to bar you from his threshold."

Aludra sat down on her workbench. "I am sorry."

"You what?" He looked at her as if she was an Aes Sedai, about to twist her words every which way.

"I said, I am sorry, yes? Me, I do not want you to walk all the way here just to be angry."

Mat took a seat at the edge of the bench, then scooted to get his balance. His legs hung limply off the sides. "In Jakanda there is a bellfoundry where apprentices get their start on massive alarms that announce danger, and only when they are masters are they trusted with the fine tools that make bells that men wear in their hair. In Caemlyn, there are scholars in the New City who want to use some patterns with their bells to tell the time. And in Maram Kashor, in bloody--in Seanchan, bells are an omen of ill fortune. But I don't suppose any of that is what you're after, is it?"

"And what if I was just after you leaving me alone when I needed to work, and coming back when I was ready to be kissed?"

"Then I would--ask if I might kiss you."

Aludra loosened one of her small braids, being careful not to displace the bead that held it in place. "Well?"

Mat gave a smile. "Will you kiss me, Aludra?"

She kissed him on one cheek, then the other. "So quiet," she said. "Is there anything else you can do?"

" _Can_ I?" he echoed, and kissed her full on. For a man who had had a roof fall in on him, he could still be very strong.

He wrapped his arms around her, and she did not pull away. A few moments more, and she was trying to embrace him in return. He gave no notice when she accidentally jostled his hat and it fell to the floor, but when she grazed his scarf, he stiffened.

"Are you all right?" he asked, when she'd lowered her hands again. "I'm not sure how these braids go back together."

"I have many secrets, me, but is that the one you want to know right this moment?"

"Not really," he admitted, and kissed her again. Without his hat, it didn't take long for his hair to get nearly as tousled as hers.

"So," he said, "you cannot share even a little of what is inside your nightflowers?"

"Hmm," said Aludra. "You men, you like to gossip. Tell you, and who's to say who you will share it with?"

"Who do I look like I'm going to gossip with? Prince Beslan? The High bloody Lords of Seanchan? It isn't exactly like I have freedom to wander around the Rahad and get accosted by Seekers."

There was that. "Well, what is inside my shirt is much less interesting than my fireworks, so I suppose there is not too much to hide." Breathing quickly--the man could be a fool, but he was a charming one!--she reached to undress.

"Hold on, now," said Mat. "Don't do anything too quick, or you'll think you have a right to see mine."

"I won't think anything of the sort," said Aludra. "Me, I am part of the Illuminators' Guild. The Guild lives in me, wherever I go! That is all the pride I need."

"That's as may be."

"Then again, I have heard tales about men who only know how to think with the hair on their chest. If you do not even have that, well, then it is a wonder you have any sense to think with at all."

"I'll show you my sense," said Mat, and took off a coat that was even more garishly-colored than Luca's wagons. His cloak, similarly bright, made just as disheveled a pile, and Aludra's shirt was not far behind. His front side was perhaps not quite as attractive as his back, but that hardly mattered.

But again, he held her only for a few moments before stopping. "Light, Aludra, if you don't want to do anything more, just say so! I'm not a Trolloc."

"I did not say that you were," she said carefully. "It is only, I think you do not like when I touch your scarf, yes?"

"Oh," said Mat. He stared at her as if trying to discern which strands of hair ran through which beads, and then slowly unwound the scarf before setting it with his other things. "Don't you worry about that."

Aludra had to peer closer to see that he had an unpleasant scar on his neck. It did not matter what he looked like, she supposed; the man had saved her life after all. But from the way he acted ashamed of it...

Suddenly it clicked like a blacksmith's puzzle. His discomfort in the bright Ebou Dari clothes, his emphasis on taking things slowly with her. "By the light, Mat, did Tylin give you this?"

"No!" He almost squealed. "No! I...Aludra, you must know, I did not--do not _want_ her, you understand?"

"Mat, you do not have to--"

" _This_ , no, I got it far from here, from some beasts who weren't even thoughtful enough to give me a kiss in return," he babbled. "It has nothing to do with--with her."

"I see. One of your secrets. In that case--"

"You don't owe me anything, Aludra."

"I know," she said. "Me, I am just glad that I do not need to worry about your scarf. Now, will you kiss me again?"

"Aludra--"

"Only if you want to."

"Please, Aludra, I want you. No bells, no secrets, just yourself."

Aludra kissed him. The stars and colors on Luca's carts might have been too gaudy for a Tinker, but she decided they had nothing on the show inside.

* * *

People thought fireworks were some kind of trick of the Power, but as far as Aludra was concerned, _s'redit_ were stranger by far. Why in the light had the Creator fashioned them with such enormous ears? And what possibly could be the purpose of those tusks?

So when Cerandin approached the Illuminator's wagon, it was with a feeling of dread that Aludra stepped out to greet her. Water she could fetch, or food, but if she had to clean up the boarhorses' droppings she was going to ask once again why the Seanchan couldn't have stayed on the far side of the Aryth Ocean.

But Cerandin was accompanied, not by one of her pets, but a skinny boy--admittedly, one whose ears were almost the size of an _s'redit_ 's. "This young fellow has a message for you."

"I'm not a 'young fellow,'" he pouted, "I'm ten."

This seemed generous, but Aludra was not going to argue. Maybe it was the Seanchan way of counting true-name days rather than years since birth. Light send some of the other Guild members had survived and found her! If the Seanchan wanted to give her trouble, surely they would find a more imposing courier.

The man had sealed it with a signet ring, a fox and two ravens. How many sheepherders from western Andor had their own seals?

 _Aludra_ , it read,

 _Plans have changed and I don't think I'll be joining up with Luca's circus after all--if that changes, you'll be first to know. But if I don't see you, be safe. I hear the_ A few words were scribbled out. _Caemlyn has set up schools for building all sorts of mad devices so you might find some bellfounders there. Or Cairhien, even if the chapter house is gone the_ more scribbles _might have room. I don't want you to do something stupid like trying to explode the queen, even on my account._

_-Mat_

Aludra folded it carefully. "A penny for your relay, my good man?"

"I'm not a beggar," said the boy.

Well, it wasn't like she could send him off with a firework in his pocket. "Then see if Gillin will let you play with her juggling balls. Not near the animals, mind you."

"Gillin lets me play with anything I like," he said. Well, maybe he was ten after all; she didn't want to imagine a six-year-old child smirking like that! Men!

No, she told herself, feeling the fold under her fingers, they were not all the same. Each life, even hairy-chested men, might be as colorful and brilliant as a nightflower--even if nearly as brief.


End file.
